


An Unexpected Visitor

by LauratheLittle



Category: Burn Notice, Leverage
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Established Relationship, M/M, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauratheLittle/pseuds/LauratheLittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot is not doing well. He needs his Daddy to come take care of him. Michael does just that.</p>
<p>Some spoilers for Season 3 of Leverage, no Burn Notice Spoilers (maybe episode 1).</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally inspired by a scene in season 1 of Leverage where Eliot tells Nate that he isn't his daddy, and that therefore he won't stop Nate from harming himself with alcohol.
> 
> It started out as a PWP, but slowly grew a plot without my permission. You have been warned. Enjoy.

The apartment was pitch black, surprising for two in the afternoon. Eliot Spencer slept at his kitchen table, an empty bottle of whiskey by his hand. “Well, aren’t you a sorry sight,” a man drawled from the doorway.

 

Eliot started awake, grabbing the neck of the bottle, as if preparing to attack the intruder. Then he stopped, putting he bottle back down on the table and brushing his hair back from his face with his free hand, “Mike? You can’t be here. You aren’t allowed to leave Miami.”

 

Before Eliot had even registered that he had moved, Michael Weston was across the room, fisting his hand in the hitter’s hair and tilting his head back roughly. “Don’t presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, boy. You didn’t leave me much of choice, did you?”

 

Eliot gasped, but didn’t attempt to break free from the spy’s grasp. “No, sir.”

 

“No. We had an arrangement. You would come down to Miami once every four months, and I would give you what you need. But you didn’t keep you end of the agreement. How long has it been since you’ve been to Miami?”

 

“Two years,” Eliot said softly. Michael released his hair and took a step back.

 

“Two years,” he agreed. “And then a call from your friend Sophie saying that you need your Daddy to come take care of you.” Eliot gave a visible start, shocked that any of his team knew about Michael, let alone knew enough to call him his “Daddy”. Michael’s voice softened, “Do you need me to take care of you?”

 

“Yes, please,” Eliot answered quietly.

 

“Then go to the bedroom, and get undressed.” Michael watched the other man leave the kitchen then began going through the cabinets to find a cup which he filled with water before following the hitter to the bedroom.

 

When he reached the small bedroom, the sight that greeted him was not promising. Eliot was pacing about the room, still wearing his boxers and tank top. “Here,” Michael said handing him the water, “this should help with the hangover.” Obediently, Eliot took a sip of the water before setting it on the nightstand. “You know, it might have been a few years since I’ve seen you,” Michael continued, “but I’m fairly certain that that is not naked.”

 

Gracefully, Eliot slipped off his boxers. His fingers teased the hem of his shirt before dropping back down to his side. Michael grasped the hem of the shirt, making to yank it over his head, but the hitter grabbed his wrists quickly, halting the movement. “Leave it, Mike.”

 

Mike. It wasn’t his safeword, but it was a sign none the less. A signal that this wasn’t a game, that Eliot wasn’t playing at disobedience so that he would get punished.

 

“So it’s true then. Sophie told me that you saw Damian Monroe again. That he coerced you into wet work by threatening a member of your team. But I don’t think you told them the whole of it.”

 

Eliot shook his head, “The hit only got us the information on the auction. The key to Alec’s handcuffs, that required that I agreed to return that evening… alone.”

 

Leaning in Michael kissed the other man. It was a sweet kiss, passionate yet gentle, and Eliot released the spy’s wrists to pull him close. After a moment Michael pulled away, “Take the shirt off.” The hitter pulled his shirt off and let it drop to the ground. His torso was a mosaic of bruises and lacerations, which would not in and of itself be shocking considering Eliot’s line of work, except that these were meticulously placed so as not to show from beneath his shirt, and two telltale rows of welts could be seen edging around his ribcage. He knew that pain play was not something the hitter found pleasure in, and was even gladder that he had friends who were looking out for him when he clearly would not look out for himself.

 

It that moment Michael wanted nothing more than to care for the man in front of him, but he knew that after what Eliot had been though that might not be what he wanted. He made himself as the necessary question, “Do you still want to continue?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Eliot confirmed.

 

“Tell me your safeword.”

 

“Beretta.”

 

The spy smiled, “Good boy. Do you have any supplies here?”

 

Eliot looked embarrassed, “No, sir. Just condoms and lube in the bedside table.”

 

The other man chuckled, “Well get them out and kneel on the bed. This is why you should come to Miami. Luckily, I brought a few of the essentials.” He left the room briefly and when he came back in, carrying two soft leather cuffs, a silk blindfold, and a cock-ring, he finds that his orders have been followed. “You are not in control here. Nothing you do will hurt anyone. There are no decisions for you to make. I am in control. Everything you do, everything you feel is because I want it. Do you understand, do you need me to take it?”

 

Eliot sat on the bed, carefully listening to what the spy told him even though he knew the words by heart. And, as he had promised years ago when he and Mike had first started their relationship, he seriously considered the question. He hadn’t needed Mike to take the control for some time, but he usually didn’t go this long without seeing him. “No, sir. I understand.”

 

“Good boy,” Michael secure the blindfold over his eyes, then set the rest of his supplies on the bedside table and took a step back, watching the man kneeling on the bed. A physical change was already evident, Eliot was more relaxed, the tension seeping out of his frame. But not as relaxed as he might have been, and Mike wished he had more than the bare essentials. “Touch yourself, long slow strokes.” He toed off his shoes and socks, and removed his jacket. Just like that, up over the tip and all the way back down. Now take the other hand and circle your entrance. Not too firm, just barely touching.”

 

The spy unbuttoned his shirt slowly as he watched Eliot follow his directions. “Perfect, you are so good or me. Now, on your front, knees under you, arms stretched towards the headboard.”

 

Eliot moved quickly to follow the instructions, and when he was in the desired position, Mike used the restraints to secure his arms to the headboard and locked the cock-ring around him. He watched him like that for a moment, letting the last breaths of tension leave the bound man. In the stillness he caught himself wondering at how such a powerful man would make himself vulnerable for him. At the amount of trust he placed in someone like him, who had spent his life being untrustworthy for a living.

 

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Michael removed the last of his clothes, grabbed the lube and condom that had been left on the table, and slipped onto the bed behind the hitter. He ran his hands up his thighs. “You are beautiful like this.” Bending over Mike swiped his tongue along this crack and heard Eliot release the beginnings of a gasp before biting it back. “There will be none of that,” Mike says sternly, “You’re sounds are mine, and I want to hear them.”

 

“Sorry, Sir.” Eliot gasped out.

 

Michael continued, alternating between long licks and teasing circling the puckered muscle, listening to the soft noises of pleasure and need that escaped the bound man. When he had his fill of those noises, he pushed his tongue through the tight ring lapping and sucking to draw out sounds that were more desperate as Eliot rocked back the tiny bit his position allowed.

 

If he had not been constrained, Eliot could have come just from the rimming, and had on multiple occasions when visiting the spy for an extended weekend, but this wasn’t one of those times. Mike sat back, slicked Eliot up quickly and rolled a condom on his so far neglected cock. He entered him in one rough thrust, using it to push Eliot forward onto his hands and knees.

 

Giving him no time to rest, Mike tangled a fist in Eliot’s hair, drew out almost completely and immediately thrust all the way back in. The pace did not ebb from the initial assault. Michael drove their pleasure relentlessly forward to a sound track of “Yes”, “Please”, and inarticulate grunts and moans. Leaning over Eliot’s back, Mike removed the restraining ring and whispered in his ear, “Come for me.” He stroked the hitter’s cock rapidly as he spilt on the blanket below him. Mike followed soon after, thrusting one final time into the man below him.

 

Michael caressed Eliot’s hair as he released the man from the restraints, “Shh, that’s good.” Mike gentled, urging him to lie down and curl into his side, “I have you.”

 

*****

When Eliot woke the next morning, everything had been cleaned up, and the other side of the bed was cold. It was not entirely unexpected, he had been right before when he said that Mike couldn’t be here, but that did not keep him from feeling lonely.

 

Wandering out to the kitchen, he saw his sink was full of empty liquor bottles that had not been empty the night before. And on the table, where he had been asleep when Michael had arrived was a plane ticket to Miami and an unsigned note that simply said “No more excuses.”


End file.
